Easy like Sunday Morning.

Seizure day, tick.

Post-ictal day, tick.

Lucid, lethargic day, tick.

Post-ictal psychosis day, ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!

Today, may possibly go down in history as the worst day, EVER, and it’s only 4.30am. Carers have cancelled on me so bring on the day.

Daisy woke at 1.35am. I thought I had a plan. Medication to sedate her was by the side of the bed in preparation for her awakening. Jumping on her to syringe it in I thought I’d won. I popped her tv on (Postman Pat 2 hour dvd) and lay her down, snuggling her into her pillow. The sound was so low only a dog would hear it. Lights off I went back to bed so that she wouldn’t be distracted by me snoring, if only! Within a minute the bed rail was rattling. Within two she was attempting to climb over said bed rail. Within three THUMP, she had.

I could tell by looking at her huge pupils that something wasn’t right, I’ve seen it many times, my heart sank. Great, what else can be thrown at me. She stripped, ripped her nightie, punched her nose that was already congealed with dried blood, threw her drink cup that I’d offered her, clapped manically all in the space of a few minutes; all this whilst laughing in a scary way.

Post-ictal psychosis shouldn’t occur in children, trust Daisy to be an exception. There is little research into it and probably none regarding mentally handicapped children but believe me, it’s horrendous to deal with. I keep a bottle of haloperidol for such occasions and have administered a low dose, but so far it’s not doing its job. My only fears today are that 1, she really hurts herself by punching her nose so hard or 2, I really hurt myself by jumping off a cliff!

Easy like Sunday Morning!

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